Lack of Morals
by Zapphi
Summary: I've always had a distinctive lack of morals. In my last life, it irritated me. This time around, it may have been the only thing that kept me alive. SI OC, gen fic. Ratings may change.
1. Prologue - Remember

**Warnings: Swearing and deaths**

**Beta: Yuinoshi**

* * *

><p>It was dusk, and most were heading to bed, be it above ground or below. People were huddled together, trying to stave off the freezing cold the winter brought with it, their breaths coming out in small wisps.<p>

In one household near the edge a city, a mother, Anka Bukoski sobbed, her grey blue eyes tightly closed as she cradled her newborn child in her arms, a kitchen knife resting next to her on the shabby wooden table table in their two-room home. The newborn in her arms was wailing, shaking its fists, its screams tearing the air, a bit like how the sound of glass breaking would. The pair's matching silver hair was in small tufts upon the baby's head, its face scrunched up as it took its first few breaths in the world.

"I'm sorry, Mari… So sorry..." She sobbed, holding the newborn with her left arm, her right reaching for the knife on the table. The baby, as if sensing what her mother was about to do, wailed even louder, her fists clenched together.

Anka gazed down at her child, her knife posed right above its heart, ready to fall, before pausing. She didn't understand. Why? She had killed so many before, so why couldn't she kill this one baby, _her_ baby? Besides, wasn't she doing Mari a favor, sparing her of this life, this life in this _rotten_ Underground City? Wasn't she preventing a horrible death for poor Mari? _Why couldn't she do it_?

…

The knife clattered to the floor, Anka following soon after, tears streaming down her face as she repeatedly muttered _I'm sorry_ over and over again.

Maria Bukoski would never get to know how close she was to death the day she was born.

* * *

><p>"Mama!" An excited girl ran through the door, a piece of bread clutched in her arms. "Look, mama! Look at what I found!"<p>

Mari was six years old. Everyday Anka pondered whether or not she should have the killed bundle of joy in her house to spare it of the misfortune the Underground City brought with it. Today was no different, as she stared at her daughter in horror.

Running over, the mother squatted in front of her daughter, squeezing her shoulders. "Where did you get that?"

"Mama, you're hurting me!" Mari squeaked. Immediately, Anka loosened her grip but didn't let go.

"Mari, _where did you get that piece of bread._" She said, the volume of her voice increasing in horror as she thought of more scenarios.

"I-I stole it," Mari said, looking down. "I thought you would be happy, that's all."

Anka could only stare at her daughter. "What did I tell you about going outside," She muttered, giving her daughter a fierce hug while being mindful of the bread. Food was scarce, after all. "There are people who are after us because there are only a few others with hair like us."

"I'm sorry, mama," the girl said, looking down. "I just… I just—"

"Shhh, it's fine, as long as you don't do it again, ok?" Anka comforted, giving a small smile.

Mari looked up at her, her wide, frightened ash grey eyes staring straight at her own. "Ok."

"Thank you for the bread." Anka said.

She would never have doubts about keeping her daughter alive again, if only to see the blinding grin her daughter gave once more.

Neither one of them could have been prepared for what would happen the following day.

* * *

><p>"Mama?" Mari asked.<p>

"Yes, honey?"

"What's a 'Wall Maria'"

Anka gave a light, tinkling laugh. "Wall Maria is a big, long Wall. It protects everyone from the Titans that reside outside the Wall. I named you after it, you know, because I'm sure that you will be just like the Wall, protecting all of those precious to you."

"Uwa~" Mari said, her eyes wide with amazement. "Do you really think I can do that?"

Smiling softly, Anka answered with all of the sincerity she had. "Of course—"

_BAM!_

The door burst open. Anka immediately stood up and pushed her daughter behind her and reached for her gleaming knife. A small group of men strolled in, all with some form of weapon. One of the had a dusty brown beard, had a straw hat resting upon his bald head, and was wearing farmer's clothes. The other man had dirty blond hair and also had brown eyes. He was wearing dark clothes that were thick and dirty. The last man, and the supposed leader had slicked back black hair, and was wearing elegant clothes; he had an expensive looking suit on that looked new.

"Ya sure this is the place?" The bearded one asked.

"Yeah, some of my men saw the brat walk in here." The leader responded.

_No…_, Anka thought, her chest constricting with horror as her blood chilled,_ Not my daughter._

"Mama..." Mari asked, her eyes filling up with tears of fear, "What's—"

Anka shushed her, and pushed her farther behind her, her grip on the knife harder than ever.

"I found 'em!" The blond shouted. Giving a small war cry, Anka rushed over to the man in question before shoving her knife in his chest, not giving him a chance to react. She was careful to cover the view of his body with her own, trying in vain to preserve what innocence her daughter retained. The other two men casually walked into the room, but froze seeing the dead form of their friend.

"You bitch!" The leader yelled, slashing at Anka, who barely managed to bring her knife up in time to block.

"Mama!" Mari yelled, tears clearly streaming down her face now. _Move._

The other man had his gun aimed at Anka's head, her angry grey-blue eyes staring at the barrel of it. _Move!_

Mari, frozen in spot, could only watch as his finger slowly pushed down on the trigger. _MOVE!_

She moved. Too late.

_BANG!_

Anka's body fell, blood streaming from the side of her head as she turned to Mari and let out one more desperate plea; _Run._

But Mari couldn't run, frozen in spot as she watched in wide eyes as her mother fell down_downdown,_ committing each detail to memory.

Mari couldn't move; she _remembered._ She remembered for the first time in six years that she wasn't always Maria Bukoski. That she used to be someone else from another life, another world. _I remembered._

Stunned, I couldn't move even as my mother's body thumped down, forever unmoving. I couldn't move as the men roughly handled me, tying my hands together and bounding my feet. I couldn't do anything as they dragged me outside of my home of six years, bringing me to who-knows-where.

I couldn't do anything as the world grew cold and colorless.

Nothing at all.

* * *

><p><strong>So... A new story. Yes, I know that silver hair is a bit mary-sueish, and I spend a good three hours debating on whether or not I should give Mari silver hair, but seeing how one of the Garrison soldiers, Rico Brzenska has silver hair too, I decided to give Mari it.<strong>

**Constructive criticism needed ;)**


	2. Prologue - Life

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing :(**

**Warnings: death and swearing**

**Beta: Yuinoshi**

* * *

><p><em>It hurts...<em>

Where was I? What happened… Was it a dream? My eyes snapped open, hope blossoming in my chest, as rekindle flame in the cold darkness that surrounded me.

It died very quickly when the moment I took in my surroundings. No, no it wasn't was dream. I was laying on my side, trapped in a cage with my hands bound with a thick, scratchy rope. My grey dress was even dirtier than usual and I could feel the sting of a few cuts and bruises. I was in a sort of storage area with a few other people, all in separate cages. There were no light source other than a small crack on the ceiling that let in a small amount of light in from whatever lit the City at night.

_All… alone._

I stared emptily at the dirty cracked walls that closed in on us, not motivated to move, not motivated to even breath.

_It's so cold. I feel so cold. This world is a colorless, cold place._

The room smelled rancid, and I could hear my fellow prisoners giving hopeless whispers around me. A small child no older than six let out a whimpering cry, reaching out to its nearby injured mother, who sobbed as she reached out to her kid, just out of her reach.

_Its so dark..._

I could barely see a dark, lanky form shift in the cage next to me as the person inside of it turned towards me. "Kid, you alright?"

I made no sound of acknowledgement. _Empty..._

He huffed in annoyance and grumbled incoherently, irritation clear from what could be heard. Speaking up he said, "Brat, I'm talking to you. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" In a second, I was up, my head banging against the bars as I snarled and spat at him. Moving my bound arms, I attempted to grapple at him, wanting to tear his face out, because he didn't understand. He had_ no right _to insult her, he should _diediedie_.

For a moment, I didn't see the lanky teen, but saw the bastard that killed_ her_, and I started banging on the cage harder, eyes wide with hatred. I was no more than a rabid animal at that point, and I _enjoyed_ that speck of fear I knew was there.

Backed off even further than he already had, he raised his arms up in the air and leaned against the bars. "Sorry… Damn. If I had known that saying 'mother' would drive you crazy, I wouldn't have said anything."

Once more placid, I stopped fighting and flopped down, ignoring the pains it left me, once more staring emptily at the wall. I his figure turn to me, giving off a contemplative air.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him. "What are we doing here?" I asked, voice completely devoid of any emotion.

"Slave dealers brought us here. What do you think we're doing?" Oddly enough, I wasn't bothered by the fact that I was going to be sold off like an item, a slave for the rest of my life. Why should it matter? _She's_ dead.

_It's so cold. Why…?_

The teen didn't bother talking to me anymore. I wasn't sure how long I laid there. All I knew is that muffled music started to play nearby, and a few people came inside to take the others out one by one. They were returned after some time, and moved on to my area.

And then chaos. There were people screaming and I heard more than a few gun shots. Hearing my cage door open, I sat up, I saw the lanky teen cutting through my bonds with a rusty knife, setting my bruised wrists free.

"GO!" He yelled at me, and I sat there for a moment, staring at him wide-eyed as he moved onto someone else. _Why?_

Jumping out of my cage, I briefly tripped on my numb legs before sprinting out of the building to the best of my ability. Once out I started to run, ignoring the screams of dying revolted as I went. I ran, and ran and continued running.

_Why me?_

I don't know how long I was running for. All I knew was that by some miracle, I found myself in front of my old and broken home soon after. After taking a brief break to catch my breath, I took trembling steps towards the door, expecting_ her_ to open the door and scold me for my ruffled appearance._ Why would he—_

_Mama_. I saw her broken body on the floor, hand still outstretched towards my previous self, her other hand still gripping onto that knife. I couldn't handle it anymore.

I broke.

Collapsing on the ground, silent tears streaming down my face, I slowly dragged my cold body to her broken one, ignoring the smell of decay, and held her close to myself.

_It's so cold and colorless._

…

The chilly air found me leaving the house a few days later, a large dark blue winter hat my mother made for me was now currently resting upon my head, hiding my semi-short dirty hair. After cleaning her knife, I had taken it and it was now strapped onto my leg, taking some time to burn her body, when I had finally gathered the necessary materials to do so. I gave one last empty gaze at the at the broken building before leaving, never wanting to return to the memories that choked me.

* * *

><p>I was on a rooftop, staring down at a group of men with food, their faces indiscernible in the night. The only source of heat was a small amount of smouldering embers in a cheap fireplace. Leaning closer to the edge, I waited for the best moment to strike.<p>

I gripped my knife harder.

_Three..._

Could I really do this?

_Two..._

Would I do this?

_One._

I jumped down, barely hesitating before ramming my knife into the head of the guy nearest to me, his crimson blood splattering all over me. _Don't think._ Taking advantage of the remaining men's shock, I leapt behind the second guy, and slit his throat. _Don't think._ The last guy, recovering from his shock, let out an anguish filled yell and charged.

_Don't think._

Letting instincts take over, I dropped to the ground, my loose hat falling from my head in the process, barely escaping unscath from the man's wild swipe. I kicked my leg out, attempting to take his legs out from underneath him, but even in his irrational state of anger, his experience won out and he dodged my pitiful swipe and lunged at me.

I bended back, but still lost some hair to that swipe. Retreating a little, I narrowed my eyes and took a gamble. Lashing my arm out, I letting the knife fly from my hands. It hit his chest, and he fell back gurgling.

_…_

_Don't you dare think._

I fell back, panting heavily. It was far too easy to steal the life away from someone else. _Why—_

I paused. Something wasn't right, but what…? I felt a chill, and threw myself to the left, staring at the knife that occupied my previous spot.

"Ya bitch!" My head snapped over and I heard an audible crack from it. _There was another one?_ I quickly scrambled to get my knife back from the corpse before freezing before it.

It was _him_. The bearded _fucker_. Any self-control I had then immediately dissolved into nothing the longer I stared at _him_.

_Her killer._

With a roar, I forgot all about my knife as I leapt to give chase. The swine ahead of me started running away like the pig he was, genuine fear in his eyes. I gave a loud laugh.

Soon enough I caught up to him and tackled him with enough force to knock him down, trapping him beneath my body.

Without thinking, I found my hands slithering to the throat of the other man, and I started squeezing the life out of him. I didn't even bother trying to stop.

With one more choke, the man stopped struggling and lay there unmoving. I stood up after making sure the bastard was dead.

It was too easy. My hands had easily ended the lives of four men. _If only I had done this back then. If only I wasn't a coward. If only, if only..._

Staring down at his body, I briefly wondered if he had any other friends or family, if they would miss him like I did with _her_.

For the first time that night, I felt remorse for the people I had killed.

_DON'T. He killed her, he killed your MOTHER, don't feel sorry, you got your sweet, sweet revenge, don't feel anything, don't, don't, don't..._

And I didn't feel anything for them. I just felt cold, and the only color I could see was that_ horrible_ red.

_Why is everything so red?_

* * *

><p>The next year was harder than usual because of the insane lack of <em>everything<em>. From what I could hear around the streets, a group of orphans had formed yet another gang.

I briefly wondered if they would make it together despite all of the competition the Underground City had. Chances were, unfortunately they'd just be killed within the month. Though it must be nice in their group...

_So lonely._

Staring blankly at the pile of trash I was looking through for food, I didn't see anyone approach me until their hand fell on my shoulder, causing me to tense. My hand fell to my side, and took the knife out of its sheath. I lashed out, only for my arm to be caught. I was quickly disarmed, and was pushed against the alleyway wall.

"What are you doing here, brat." He asked, looking every bit annoyed with me, as if I was lower than the scum on his feet.

I couldn't say I didn't agree with him.

I stared up him from my uncomfortable position against the wall. He stared back. He had straight dark straight brown hair and dark eyes, and was wearing a long-sleeved shirt beneath a thick grey coat and long pants. To the right of him was a girl with short blond hair, a small clump of it sitting in front her face. She had brilliant green eyes and was wearing a white shirt with cuffs with black pants.

"Wait, Kurt," The girl said, "Don't be too hard on him."

_Him?_ I blinked in confusion.

"You say that for all of the orphans that come into our territory, Resi." Kurt replied, sending an annoyed look her way. "We're going to lose more food than we have if you keep on doing that."

Resi looked down. "But what if—" She was silenced by a glare from Kurt, daring her to object. After a few moments, she asked, "...Can we take him in?"

…What?

She paused, expecting to be yelled at, but continued on as if when finding that we were staring wide-eyed at her. "Um... I know it seems unrealistic, but I'll take care of him! I'll feed him!" She said, raising her tone slightly as she went. "You won't have to do anything! If you let me take him in, I won't say anything about any other orphans!"

_What?_

She looked at me. I stared at her, expressionless. Letting out a nervous laugh, she walked up to me. "See? He's not objecting! …Beside, he reminds me of myself before I met you guys."

I just stared wide-eyed at her with Kurt, too shocked to do anything. "Well, we should get going," she said, a small smile on her face before walking over to me and taking me from my position on the wall, giving me a piggyback ride.

_Why?_

Startled, the Kurt simply followed her, face frozen in shock. I thought of resisting, but didn't, opting instead to snuggle into her back.

After all, she was _warm_.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the late chapter :)<strong>

**Thank you HermitCrabOtaku and Guest for reviewing as well as to all of those people out there who added my story to their Alerts and Favorites list!**

**Random fact about Mari: She's a lefty.**


End file.
